The Frozen Tide
by DarkDragonFires12
Summary: Winter is coming. Ariel, Melody and Lara come to Arendelle as they flee north from the ruins of home. Elsa's rampant power creates a delay they can't afford with the enemy that pursues them. As dangers arise and the temperature drops, it falls to Lara and Elsa to not only to protect Arendelle and their friends, but help each other as well. Rated T for now, may go up to M.
1. Prologue: Winter Is coming

Prologue: Winter is Coming

It was a warm night. The pines groaned in the night wind, their ancient trunks swaying gently. The sky was crystal clear. The moon shone like a second sun, its ethereal light blocking out all but the brightest of stars. The snow on the mountains reflected the moonlight like giant mirrors, sparkling and twinkling like a blanket of diamonds over the sharp slopes.

High up in the Valley of the Living Rock the trolls slept, a jumble of perfectly round moss-covered balls to the untrained eye. One grass covered stone slowly unfurled as Grand Pabbie was roused from his slumber, rubbing his eyes as he left the pleasant dream he wished to return to. For the elder troll to wake at this hour was a rare occurrence indeed. After all, this was someone who would sleep through an avalanche or having a tree fall on him.

"Wha' in the world?" he yawned sleepily. He stretched his arms as he scanned about for the source of his nighttime disturbance. There was nothing out of the ordinary he could discern. The same scattered piles of boulders greeted his sleepy eyes, and the mossy clearing they slept on was as a soft and green as ever. Even the steam from the hot vents rose in the same swirling trails as always.

"Must've been my imagination," Pabbie mumbled to himself as he curled back into a ball, eager to return to his dream.

That was when he felt it. It was a sensation beyond what the five senses could detect. It was an intangible pressure only those who master the ways of magic can sense. He felt a magical presence drawing closer to his family with each second, the pressure growing steadily with its approach.

Pabbie was wide-awake now. This was not just any presence. It was ancient and powerful, far more than he ever was or would be. Yet even the magnitude of this presence was not the true reason this particular visitor had jolted him awake. If it were most others he would brush it off and stay asleep. There was little that could bother a living rock. But he knew this one well. It was a longtime confidant, yet it had been absent from these lands for centuries. What was it doing here now?

He started rushing between stones, rapping them smartly with his knuckles as he went by. "Wake up! Everybody wake up! On the double!"

One by one the stones came to life as the trolls awoke, yawning and stretching at the unexpected wake up call. Those that roused began waking their neighbors as Pabbie continued bringing his unusually large family back to consciousness.

"What's going on, Pabbie?" asked a particularly round and sleepy troll. "Why'd you get us up at this unholy hour? It's not even past midnight yet."

"We have a guest!" exclaimed Pabbie as he worked to keep one of his grandchildren from drifting back to sleep.

"Is it Kristoff?" asked a female troll excitedly. Immediately many of the trolls woke up, thrilled at the prospect of seeing their adoptive son even if it was night.

"No," said Pabbie, earning a few disappointed '_aw_'s from the trolls.

"Then who is it?" asked someone from the group.

A mixture of panic, elation, excitement and concern crossed Pabbie's face. "It's-."

There was a swishing sound of wing beats. A large black raven swooped out of the sky. It circled the trolls twice before coming to land in the center of the crowd. It was unusually large even for a raven, standing well over a foot tall. Were it any other bird the trolls would not have paid it much attention unless it landed on one of them.

But this was no ordinary raven. Glowing orange and red lines were etched all across its feathers like roots from a tree. The lines converged on eyes that glowed like embers in a forge. It had none of the twitching movements of a normal raven, holding itself tall and noble before the perplexed onlookers.

The trolls backed away to give the raven plenty of room, clearly intimidated by this strange bird as it surveyed them with unblinking eyes. Pabbie shoved his way as politely as possible through his kin until he pushed through, stumbling for a step before coming face to face with the raven.

Grand Pabbie gave a low bow to the bird. "It's a pleasure to see you again, my lord... and I must admit, a bit of a surprise as well," he said, oddly formal for one so fond of the informal.

The raven turned to face Pabbie. "Good to see you as well, my old friend," it said, its voice as deep and rolling as a thunderstorm. Its beak moved out of sync with its words, making the raven's speech even more ominous. "But please refrain from calling me 'Lord' or any such title. You know my disfavor of those honorifics."

One of the younger trolls pulled on the mossy coat of its mother. "Mama, who's tha' bird Pabbie's talking to?"

The raven fixed one gleaming eye on the youngster, causing it to retreat behind its mother's back. "I go by many names, little one. I have been called the Northern King, the Shadow Emperor, and Ember Eyes to name a few. But the name I embrace is..."

A strong wind swept through the valley. The name was lost amidst the rustle of the trees and the howl of wind through the branches.

There was not a single troll that did not step back or gasp as they recognized the name. Not _the _Ember Eyes from Grand Pabbie's stories? The ruler of Arcania? The timeless king who reigned without a crown? The one who fought in the Third Apocalypse? The grandmaster of magic who created the legendary Claymore? Surely not! He was a legend! A myth! They thought Pabbie invented him to entertain the young ones! How could such a being exist in this world? Yet there was no doubt this was the same Ember Eyes he spoke of, at least in presence if not in physical form.

The trolls fell to their knees in equal parts reverence and fear, bowing their heads to the ground.

"Rise!" barked the bird, its eyes flashing. "Do not prostrate yourselves so willingly! You are not my subjects, nor do you owe me any such respect! On your feet, all of you!" Hesitantly the trolls got to their feet, confused by the bird's contempt for their manners.

"You'll have to forgive them," said Pabbie. "It's been so long since you visited that our memories of you have become blurred. The younger ones only know of you from legends and fairy tales."

The corners of the raven's mouth curled up in an attempted smile. "Fairy tales to the new generations, but to you and I it is history. What's it been now, two hundred winters since I was last here?"

Pabbie smiled nostalgically. "Indeed. Where have you been all this time? I was starting to think you finally kicked the bucket."

The raven shook its head. "Not dead. I am bound in sleep by the power of one of my kind's own creations. This bird is the best I can manage as a means of conversation with you." It blinked and ruffled its feathers, the lines shimmering for a moment. "As for how I ended up in this state, that is a subject for another time. My use of this creature is limited, and I must speak with you and you alone on a matter of dire importance."

The elder troll's brow furrowed in concern. "What is it?"

"The Trident has been destroyed. Seahaven has fallen and Atlantica lies in ruin, their people taken hostage or fleeing for the wilds. Shadows are spreading across the southern lands, and I do not know how long it will be until the darkness reaches here. Events are now unfolding that will affect the future of this world, and the Nivagel and Arendelle have their roles to fulfill in this grim theater."

Pabbie tensed immediately. "Nivagel… you mean Elsa?"

The raven nodded. "The child may save this kingdom or doom it to the same tragedy as the southern lands."

Pabbie turned back to his family. "Leave us, please." The trolls hesitantly wandered off, more than a few lingering in hopes of catching a few words. Pabbie waited until he was sure they were all out of earshot.

He turned back to the raven. "Are we alone?"

"A moment." The raven's eyes glowed yellow as the lines on its body swelled with light. It remained luminous for a few seconds like a candle in a cave before the light faded to its milder orange. "We are alone. No one will hear us now." He was not just referring to the trolls, for there were fouler and darker things out there that did not need ears to listen.

Pabbie clasped his hands behind his back, his stony face turning serious. "Tell me everything you know."

* * *

At the southern end of Arendelle's fjord was a forest of elm, spruce and scarce pine. The majestic trees thrived in Arendelle's fertile summers and chilly winters, creating a dense canopy overhead. The forest changed to fir, spruce and cedar as it rose up the mountains. Moonlight slipped through the trees in fine beams of silver light, and fireflies zipped around the ancient stands like sparks from a fire.

The snapping of twigs and clop of hooves as three hooded travelers and a horse walked along a narrow path broke the silence of the forest. Two of them were on foot while the third rode atop the horse, a magnificent black stallion fit for a king.

None of the travelers looked like kings. Their heavy gray cloaks were dirty and ragged from weeks of travel, the hems just short of dragging the ground. The leader's cloak was torn along its edges, as though a great many dogs had chewed upon it. A passing bush snagged its cloak, pulling it back enough to reveal a tattered sleeveless brown tunic and loose black pants on an athletically slim female frame. A pair of knife handles was visible at the small of her back, and a straight-bladed bokken of inky black wood was thrust through her leather belt. Her brown leather boots were worn and showed obvious signs of repair. She bore a large pack on her back, the canvas slack with the dearth of supplies. Around her neck was a small glass marble attached to a leather chord. A small flame burned inside the marble, yet it gave off no heat and only the faintest of light. The leader quickly stuffed it back under her tunic lest someone see.

The traveler trailing it had a similar gray cloak that was a bit too short. The skirt of a deep maroon dress was visible underneath. The hem was in need of repair, ripped and frayed throughout. Her cloak snagged on the same bush as she walked past, revealing a poorly repaired bodice of the same color over a dirty white blouse. A marble similar to the one the leader wore hung from her neck, but instead of fire it held a drop of sky blue water. The fluid moved with a mind of its own, swirling gently against the rhythm of her steps. She carried a much smaller but no less empty pack on her back. Her steps were harsh and tired compared to the silent sure steps of the leader, and her breath was slightly labored from their pace.

It was the traveler atop the horse, however, that made this group worthy of attention. Her cloak draped over the rump of the horse like a cape, her blue skirt and black bodice marred by dirt, dust, horsehair, and several flecks of blood. It was too long for her legs, the skirt trailing to below the horse's chest. But if you were to somehow chance a peek underneath that skirt you would not find legs, but instead the unmistakable jade green tail of a mermaid. Several strands of vibrant red hair slipped out from under her hood, standing out against the cloak like a strand of fire in the dark. She quickly pulled it back, afraid that even in these quiet woods someone could be watching.

"Are we there yet?" asked the second traveler as she avoided tripping on an exposed root.

The leader sniffed the air. "We're close now. I can smell ocean, so it shouldn't be much further."

"Thank goodness," said the rider. As a creature of the ocean she was looking forward to getting back in the water.

The leader pushed through a dense patch of brush blocking their path. She stopped abruptly, causing her companions to come to a jarring halt. She perked her ears up, listening to some distant sound the others could not hear. She sniffed the air again.

"What is it?" asked the second traveler.

The leader drew her knives from her belt in a reverse grip. She began walking cautiously forward, her footsteps as careful as a cat stalking prey. The others watched with baited breath, paranoia making them anxious as it played on their fears. And they had much to be afraid of.

The leader came to a dense wall of young pines across their path, forming a barrier of springy stems and green needles. She turned back to her companions. The hood obscured her face, but a pair of glowing yellow eyes were visible from within the shadows.

"Wait here," she whispered before pushing through the coniferous wall. Her friends watched as she disappeared into the thicket. The only trace of her presence was the sounds of rustling branches and snapping wood. Then it went silent.

The seconds stretched out into what seemed an eternity. An owl hooted in the distance. The horse shifted nervously, ears swiveling around to pick out even the faintest of sounds. The mermaid and woman were getting more anxious by the second. Every sound made them tense even further, tightening already frayed nerves like an over-wound pocket watch.

There was the snapping of branches as something came rushing at them through the pine thicket. The second traveler backed up to the horse, clutching the reins as though it would provide her with some safety. The snapping swelled in volume until they saw the young trees part as the familiar hood of the leader popped out of the foliage.

"Guess what? We're-!" The leader's boot caught on an exposed root. She gave a startled yelp, her arms waving about madly for balance before falling face first into the dirt. "Oof!"

The second traveler rushed over to her clumsy companion. "Are you okay, Lara?"

The leader's hood fell back as she got to her knees, a beam of moonlight illuminating her face.

The leader was an attractive young woman of twenty-one years with fair features that perfectly accented her oval face. Her waist-length straight hair was a vibrant orange color that was a shade lighter at its core, giving it the look of iron pulled from a furnace. A pair of black goggles sat on top of her head like a hair band, with one short L-shaped plume of hair atop her head that refused to stay down. Some of her hair escaped the confines of her goggles to frame her face. Her eyes were a golden yellow with a faint ring of copper orange near the pupil. A pale scar ran over her right eye. She had a plethora of piercings on her face. A single black labret pierced her lower lip and her nose bore a small horizontal black barbell high on the bridge. A pair of vertical black barbells pierced her eyebrows. Each of her ears bore two small black rings just above the lobe and four finger-length black spikes through the helix. Her beauty was as ethereal as it was dangerous, like a elven huntress tracking by the full moon.

"I'm fine," said Lara, scratching the back of her neck embarrassedly as she got to her feet. "Guess I didn't see the root."

"You can see in the dark," said the second traveler sarcastically as she dusted off Lara's cloak and pants. "How in the world did you not see that?"

"Just because I see at night doesn't mean I see everything, Melody."

The second traveler pulled off her hood. A young woman with straight black hair held in a low ponytail and swept across her brow came into view. Her hair was greasy and dirt spotted her face, but her blue eyes were crystal clear and her soft features lost none of their grace from the lack of bathing. At nineteen years old Princess Melody had turned into a beauty that matched her mother.

"So you see as well at night as you do in daylight, but you can't remember a root you stepped over two minutes ago?" One of her eyebrows popped up teasingly.

Lara narrowed her eyes. "Don't give me that! You know I hate it when you give me that look!"

Melody grinned cheekily at her friend. "Hey, you do it to me all the time! Fair's fair!"

"All right, that's enough you two," said the rider. She pulled off her own hood, revealing the radiant red hair and enchanting features of Queen Ariel - or rather, of Princess Ariel. Not even two months ago she had been on the cusp of turning thirty-seven. Not that time had done anything to diminish her beauty, but it had still left its marks on her in intangible ways. Now she was square in the middle of sixteen as she had been before the events that led her onto land, a result of the curse she endured at the hands of the one who plotted Seahaven and Atlantica's destruction and the capture of her entire family. "Lara, what did you find?"

Lara perked up visibly. "Oh, right! Come on!" She grabbed Melody's hand and pulled her into the thicket, forcing the princess to cover her face as they plowed through stinging bunches of pine needles and the occasional branch.

"_Ack!_ Lara, wait!" spat Melody as a cluster of needles tickled her face. She could hear the sound of the horse trotting behind her. "Slow down! I can't – _pffft!_ - see!"

Lara ignored her and kept going. "Just a bit further!"

Melody was about to dig her heels in when they broke out of the thicket. She felt the ground change under her feet, becoming bumpy and unstable as stones slid across each other. She bent over, spitting out several pine needles from her mouth and removing more from her hair.

"What- _bleugh!_ – is so important that you had to – _ack!_ – drag me through that?"

It was Lara's turn to grin in that lopsided toothy manner only she could do. "We're here."

Melody looked up. The forest was gone. Before her was a beach of uncountable smooth stones piled on top of each other. Small waves lapped at the stones, their ceaseless motions polishing them to a mirror finish. Beyond the waves stretched Arendelle's fjord, the black crystal waters of night embraced by the steep slopes of the snowcapped mountains. Massive cliff faces dove straight into the water to the west, while the lights of houses shone against the side of the hills like a hundred stars fallen to the earth on the east. The castle stood majestic in the moonlight, its proud spires bearing the waving purple and green pennants of the kingdom. The sounds of life were barely a murmur at this distance, but it was still audible to the trained ear.

Ariel rode out of the forest to join the two on the shore. The horse's hooves dug into the stones as she brought him to a stop.

Melody stared across the fjord to the lit windows of the town and castle. "Is that it, Mom?"

Ariel nodded. "Yes. That's Arendelle."

Lara folded her arms over her chest. "And our ticket North." She turned back to the forest, listening for any sign that they were being followed. Hearing nothing she removed her pack, setting it down on the stones. "We'll camp here tonight."

Melody looked to her friend with confusion and a little disappointment. "We're not going into town?"

"Not until tomorrow," said Lara as she moved to help Ariel off the horse. She carefully caught the mermaid as she slid out of the saddle before taking her to the water's edge. "Remember, we don't want them to find us again. The fewer people that see us and the sooner we leave, the better for us and everyone else. We'll go in, find a ship, stock up, and then get the hell out of here."

Melody and Ariel knew Lara was right. If the people of Arendelle knew what was following them, they would not have let them within a hundred miles. They had shaken off their pursuers for now. It made travel much easier, but there was no telling if or when they would pick up the trail again. Complicating matters further was that they did not know just how far-reaching the enemy's influence was. For all they knew they could be waiting for them just on the other side of the fjord.

Lara gently set Ariel down at the edge of the surf. Ariel quickly rolled up her skirt to expose her green tail as she let the waves roll over the shining scales. Her eyes closed in bliss as she relished the sensation of the water on her tail, lying back on the cool stones. It felt like a warm fire on a cold night after so many days on land. Freshwater was fine, but there was something about seawater that could not be compensated for.

Lara went to the stallion and loosened his saddle. The horse nipped at her tunic and whined.

"I don't have any more," said Lara. The horse gave the same eyebrow Melody had. "Honest! You ate our last one this morning!"

Melody reached into her pack and extracted a large red apple. "Not yet he hasn't." She set her pack down with Lara's and walked over to the horse. It reached out to her, eager for the sweet fruit.

"Save it for tomorrow," said Lara as she tied the cinch back onto the horse. "We don't need him getting spoiled... or fat."

The stallion shot a look at Lara and swatted her with its tail, the coarse hair stinging her cheek. "Hey!"

Ariel laughed at the horse's antics. "Oh let him have it, Lara. He's done such a good job letting me ride him."

Lara looked like she was about to say "no" when she caught Ariel's face. She had that pleading look she could never refuse. Those ocean blue eyes and slightly pouty lip were too much with that sweet innocent face.

She sighed, defeated once more by Ariel's plea. "Alright, fine."

Melody offered out the apple to the stallion, who snatched it from her hand and gobbled it down in seconds. Lara walked back to the forest. "But if he gets fat I'm blaming you."

The horse snorted at her compliment as Lara began collecting firewood. Her long hair fell down as she picked up branches, cascading like a waterfall of fire. Melody watched it sway in the wind as Lara piled wood into her arm. She never got tired of looking at it. Something about it was enchanting to her. Sometimes she swore it would glow, and not just when Lara used _that._

"Ahem... while were on the subject of not being found," said Melody as she started setting out what little bread and cheese they had left, "Lara, shouldn't you do something about your hair and eyes? You do sort of... well, stand out."

Lara held up the orange strands to her gaze. As much as she hated to do it, Melody was right. There was no way she could go into Arendelle looking like this. Obviously Ariel would not be coming with them tomorrow. A red-haired mermaid in Arendelle would be the same as sending a letter to the enemy with a return address. Melody would blend in just fine in her current state. But Lara would not. Her hair and eyes did not just stand out. They screamed for attention. People would easily remember a girl with orange hair and yellow eyes. It would be better if she could take out her facial piercings, but if she did that people would _definitely _remember her.

And at worst, they would try to kill her.

"I guess you're right." She set down the logs in a neat pile and looked around. Arendelle was well away and they were alone. The enemy could not find them with its magic thanks to Kodama's enchantments. No one was going to see what happened next except these two - three if she counted Tempest.

"_Diffingo_." A brilliant white flame erupted from Lara's scalp, yet it cast no light into the forest and gave no heat. The flame quickly worked its way down her hair, turning the beautiful fiery oranges brown as it passed. Within seconds the flames reached the tip and dissipated, leaver her hair a dark brown color. Her eyes flashed white and she winced, squeezing them shut at the stinging sensation the magic caused.

She waited until the discomfort passed to open her eyes. She had no mirror to check but she knew the golden yellow of her eyes had been replaced by earthy browns.

She held her hair up to her face and sighed. Brown was boring to her. Almost everyone had brown hair. Not that there was anything wrong with it. It just did not suit her. But considering who and what was pursuing them, she could not risk discovery for the sake of personal tastes. There was too much at stake. She made a promise, and except for that one time she never broke promises. They had left everything and everyone they cared about behind in the clutches of those monsters. They had left family, friends, comrades and subjects behind on this gamble. All they had now were the clothes on their backs, the things in their packs, each other's backs, and the faintest of comforts knowing some had escaped and that Ariel's family was still alive, if only for their enemy to assure they would return.

All their hopes were riding on this journey. Somewhere in the north was their one chance to stop the enemy and save the land and sea. It was not a matter of if they would make it - they _had_ to make it.

She remembered the words Eric spoke to her when she last saw him, bound in chains and kneeling on the floor before their enemy.

'_Promise me you'll protect them with your life!'_

Lara clutched her hair in her fist, knuckles popping with her strength. _'I swore to Eric I'd keep them safe, and I'll stake my life on that! We will come back for you all! We'll save you and take back Seahaven! I promise!' _She began arranging the sticks into a cone for the fire_. 'Those bastards will pay for what they've done!_'

* * *

Elsa could not sleep again. She had lay in bed for hours now, tossing and turning as she tried to find a comfortable position to sleep in. Just like the night before, and the night before that. Her pillow was damp with nervous sweat. Her legs refused to stay still, demanding her to move every few minutes. Loose strands of hair fell across her face. It was not just her body that was restless. Her mind was no less anxious.

'_It's tomorrow_,' she thought to herself, brushing her hair out of her face. '_It's really happening. Tomorrow I'll stop being Princess Elsa and become Queen Elsa… right in front of all those people_. _Right where they can see me._' She felt her chest constrict at the thought of standing in front of all those dignitaries and nobles, their eyes focused solely on her. She would be the center of everyone's attention. If she lost control before her entire court... or worse, around Anna again…

A thick layer of frost rapidly formed over her sheets. Elsa leapt out of bed, her nightgown already freezing at the hems as the frost quickly raced across her mattress and onto her blankets. She backed into the wall, her hands slapping the blue wallpaper. Instantly ice spread from her fingertips before Elsa could pull away in time, spreading and branching outwards like ink over a page.

Elsa retreated to the middle of her room, trying to bring her panic under control as the storm welled up in her chest. She recited her mantra again and again as she fought to keep the power contained, her eyes screwed shut in concentration.

"Conceal. Don't feel. Don't let them know. Conceal. Don't feel. Don't let them know," she whispered to herself. Slowly her breathing came back to normal and the storm quieted down, receding to that unreachable place within herself. She slowly opened her eyes to survey the damage her most recent outburst had caused.

Her bed was frosted over completely, glinting in the moonlight with a fine dust of ice crystals. The spots where she touched the walls still had ice spreading out, that familiar snowflake design growing underneath it. Even her footsteps had left icy tracks over the floor.

Elsa turned to the balcony window. She needed air. Not just for herself but to melt the ice as well. She flung the windows open, letting the warm air into her frigid room. She looked out over the fjord, not wanting to look at the town tonight. It only made her more nervous, which then made her powers less compliant. Even the fjord did little to ease her worries. It was filled with ships from all over the western kingdoms. There was the ship from Corona, carrying the recently married Princess Rapunzel and her husband Eugene Fitzherbert. Next to it was the ship from Weselton...or was it Weaseltown? There even one from the Southern Isles, one of their most distant allies if she remembered her lessons correctly. There was still no sign of a ship from Seahaven. She wondered what could be keeping them.

As of tomorrow she would no longer be just a symbol to Arendelle. She would be their ruler. More than that, she would be their queen. The person they looked to for guidance, justice, and protection. She would have to conduct herself as a representative for her kingdom. And that meant interacting with people. _Lots_ of people.

She leaned heavily on the wrought iron railing, her gaze wandering out across the fjord. '_Q__ueen? Protector of the people? Me? How am I supposed to lead an entire nation when I can't even protect myself from me?_'

A flicker of light caught Elsa's eye. It was a white light on the far southern shore of the fjord. Was it a forest fire? Not likely. She had never seen a fire burn with such a contained radiance. A torch? Impossible. This was white as snow. She knew of no flame that could burn with that color. The light shone for a few more seconds and then promptly disappeared.

Elsa was prevented from ruminating on what could have caused the light when she heard the familiar creaking and cracking of ice forming. She snapped her eyes down to see it crawling over the ironwork like cracks over glass. She yanked her hands away, backing far into the recesses of her room and tripping over the edge of her rug. She gave a startled yelp and threw her hands back, barely managing to catch herself in time. She watched the ice spread until the majority of the balcony rail was encased in a star of frost and ice.

Elsa scooted over to the foot of her bed, hugging herself tight as she curled into a ball. Tomorrow she would be queen. It was unavoidable. But she did not feel like a queen. She felt like a child again, afraid and without hope in her room like she had been for the last thirteen years. This was her prison and her haven. Here she was safe, but more importantly so was everyone else. Especially Anna, her only remaining family. She could not bear the thought of hurting her again, let alone at all. If this was what it took to keep everyone safe, then this was where she would remain. Isolated and alone...so very alone.

'_Why?_' she thought to herself. '_Why did this happen to me? Why do I have to bear this curse?_' Cold tears began leaking from her eyes as she rested her head against her knees, doing her best to conceal her quiet sobs of helplessness as the frost spread out beneath her.

* * *

It would seem impossible for a stone to change color. Yet anyone who looked at Grand Pabbie would say the troll was a few shades whiter. His spines trembled and his eyes brimmed with disbelief and horror.

"By the moss on my back! To think that such senseless barbarism was possible! How has this happened?"

The raven looked gravely at its friend. "They have been planning this for decades now. They are snakes, and like all snakes they knew the value of patience. It has served them as well as their capacity for cruelty. Family, homes, love, honor, camaraderie - they take genuine pleasure in destroying these things. They force families to choose between their children, one to live and the others to die. They raze villages to ash for the sheer pleasure of killing. They use their prisoners as materials to make their abominations of flesh and metal. They are the perfect enemy for this peaceful world."

Grand Pabbie walked over to lean against a slab of rock. "This bodes ill for all of us. Elsa has next to no control over her gift. If those demons set their sights on Arendelle there will be nothing she can do to stop them."

The raven flew over to perch on the rock. "There is a greater predicament here. If Elsa were to fall into their hands, or were to join them of her own will, then -."

Pabbie snapped his eyes to the raven. "Elsa would never join them! She may be scared and shut people out for fear of her power, but she is _not_ evil! She would not dream of turning her back on Arendelle!"

"I do not doubt your faith in the girl," said the raven calmly, "But I question Elsa's fortitude. She is near her breaking point. Fear and repression are powerful allies to them. They will exploit any frailty or wound for their purposes. If she does not reign in these powers soon and accept her destiny, she may yet become one of their puppets - or worse, one of their specimens."

Pabbie sat down hard on the ground. This was too much to take in at once. Never did he know of such a foe except in the stories of the Third Apocalypse when the entire world burned. For an organization of such power and heinous intent to rise up in this age was as alarming as it was terrifying. If they got to Arendelle, or to Elsa an Anna… no, he did not want to imagine what they would do to those girls.

"What do we do? What _can_ we do?" he asked, more to himself than to the raven.

The raven hopped down in front of Pabbie. "Have courage, my friend. There are dark days ahead, but they are not end days. There is still hope for this world, and for Elsa as well. Help is coming from the south." The raven bounded towards the center of the clearing and took off, flying upwards in lazy circles.

"Watch for a girl with orange hair who belongs to two races and none! She travels with two daughters of the sea! Depending on how the next several days unfold she may be able to help Elsa, but if not..." The raven paused, finding it difficult to say what came next.

"What? What if she can't help her?" called Pabbie nervously.

The raven began climbing into the sky. "Then she may at least be able to destroy her!"

* * *

**A/N: So this will be my second fanfic. I do want to tell you this is based heavily on another fanfic I am writing for "The Little Mermaid." I was planning to finish that before I started this, but after seeing Frozen I couldn't help it! I just had to start writing!**

**I will not be updating this frequently since I want to finish the other story first, but I will try to keep it going. Maybe a chapter every few weeks or so.**

**Your comments/thoughts/constructive criticism is appreciated and welcome. Bashing will only be ignored or reported.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Little Mermaid, Frozen, or any of Disney's characters. Everything else, however, is mine =) (and if I left something out that does belong to Disney, I don't own those either).**


	2. Preview: Stairway to the Queen

**A/N: Just a little preview for an idea I had for the story. The scene is Lara (an OC from another story) trying to get up to Elsa's palace after managing to get rid of Marshmallow. It seems easy enough, but…**

Lara watched as Marshmallow disappeared into the darkness of the ravine, his roar fading to a distant howl and then cutting off with a dull thud at the bottom.

"Whew! Glad that's over with," she said as she brushed the snow off her cloak and head before tucking her bokken back into her belt, her hair plume erect again as it was freed from the weight of the snow. She turned to face the glass stairway up to the front door. '_I hope that ice is soundproof. That snowguard made one heck of a racket_.'

Lara walked up to the stairs. They shone like glass in the evening light, the clear structure refracted with purples, pinks, blues and greens. She put one foot on the step and waited. Nothing happened. There was no defensive reaction or indication that she had been discovered. She went for the next step and-.

_Fwip! _Lara's foot slipped out from under her and she flipped backwards, landing hard on her butt and smacking her head on the stair. "Yeow!" she yelled, clutching at the sizable egg growing on the back of her skull as she slipped down the stair into the snow.

* * *

Elsa perked her ears. Was it her imagination or did she hear someone just now?

* * *

Lara rubbed her aching head. Right. Ice stairs. Not glass. Ice. Why did it have to be ice? Lara was good at a lot of things. Fighting? Definitely. Magic? One of the best. Having fun? Yes. Getting into trouble? Oh yes. But ice? Her relationship with ice was as healthy as the one between a campfire and a typhoon.

She loved winter as much as summer. Winter meant snow. Snow was light and fluffy and could be made into all sorts of things. Forts, snowmen, snowballs, prank traps, dummies for sword and magic practice-the list seemed endless. Not like ice. Ice was slippery, hard, sharp, refused to change its form-did she mention it was slippery? She had as much grace and stability on it as a newborn fawn on…well, ice. Her father had tried to teach her to ice skate but she had never gotten the hang of it. After countless bumps to the head and a sore bottom that had taken an entire day to heal she had promptly given up on it. She would rather walk around entire mountains that try to walk across a frozen lake.

Lara rubbed her head as she got back to her feet. '_Okay, let's try this again._' She approached the stairs and grabbed hold of the railing to steady her. She tightened her grip as she took the first step fine. Then the second. Then the third. And then the fourth. She started to feel confident and went for-.

Her hand slipped off the railing and she tripped forward. _FWOMP! _Her chin landed hard on the step, jarring her brain. Then she started sliding back down, her already sore chin bouncing down each step before she slid into the snow.

"Owwww," she groaned, rolling her tender jaw. She was definitely going to feel that for a while. She scowled up at the steps. This was ridiculous. She dealt with the Duke's men no problem. She fended off the werewolves easily enough. She had just tricked a thirty-foot tall snow monster off a cliff. But she was getting her butt handed to her by a flight of stairs. She had a good thirty feet up and eighty feet across of steps to cover, and she did not feel like playing slip-and-bruise with any one of them.

'_Fine. If that's the way you want to be..._' She got up and walked back the way she came, wanting to get a running start. If she could not climb them she would just skip them altogether. She bounced lightly on her feet, taking quick short breaths as she readied herself.

"Okay, nothing to it," she said to herself. "I've got this. Just going to jump over this stupid ice and go inside. Made this sort of jump before. No big deal. Just up and over and I'm there." She took a few more bounces and then shot off towards the door, kicking up snow as she ran with her superhuman speed. She closed the distance to the steps and leapt, soaring high into the air towards the door.

Yes! She had timed it just right and used the perfect amount of strength. Her trajectory would take her right to the landing in front of the door.

Which Lara realized a moment later was made of ice.

_Slippery_ ice.

Slippery ice leading to a door of _hard_ ice.

'_Oh crap_…'

_WHAM!_

* * *

Elsa jumped at the sound. It sounded like a boulder being thrown against her palace. Or like Marshmallow's version of a knock.

'_What in the world was that?_'

* * *

Lara hit the landing and slid fast into the door, knocking the wind out of her. The force of the impact bounced her backwards and she tripped over the steps, falling onto her back and sliding down the stairs again. Her voice rose and fell with each step as the stairs washboarded her spine and the back of her head. She hit the bottom step and rolled across the snow, stopping in a large snowdrift at the base of a pine tree.

The drift was still for a moment, then Lara's head popped out, her orange hair and goggles covered with snowflakes. She glared at the stairs. "You stupid frozen pieces of -!"

_WHOMP! _A large clump of snow broke loose from the top of the tree and fell right on top of Lara, preventing her from adding the expletive she had in mind.

A low growl came from the snow. Then steam began to rise from it as an orange light appeared underneath the white.

"THAT'S-IT!" Lara's head popped out of the snow, cheeks flushed with annoyance and hair glowing. She hopped out and shook the snow off before stomping over to the stairs, arms stiff at her sides. "NO MORE MISS NICE GIRL!" She drew her knives, holding one in each hand. She raised the left one over her head and drove it hard into the third step.

* * *

Elsa was on her feet. Whose voice was that? It did not sound like Anna...did it? She had never heard Anna yell that loud before, but she knew it was a girl's voice. Who else would be crazy enough to come all this way? But in such a short time? How was that possible?

She smoothed out her dress and headed for the stairs. She had to find out, if at least to send them away.

* * *

_CRACK! _went the blade as it sunk into the stair. Lara gave it a strong pull to make sure it was secure. The blade hardly moved. She raised the right one and did the same to the step above. _CRACK! _The blade pierced the ice and held secure. She pulled the left one out and started repeating the process, stabbing her way up the stairs on her knees as she grumbled to herself. She went for another stab and her knees slipped out, causing her hips and chest to land on the hard edges. She hissed in pain but kept her grip on the knives, now starting her climb again lying flat on the steps.

"Stupid *_crack_* lousy *_crack_* no-good *_crack_* pieces of *_crack_* frozen *_crack_* water *_crack_*. The only *_crack_* thing it's *_crack_* good for *_crack_* is cold *_crack_* drinks and *_crack* _concussions."

She kept muttering ill will towards all ice as she continued her slow crawl up, her language turning fouler as she went. She did not notice the ice grow over the wounds her knives left in the stairs.

* * *

Elsa stopped in the stairway and listened. She heard someone muttering indiscernibly in between what sounded like ice cracking. She peered out the side of her palace, the clear ice affording her a view of the stairs to the palace door.

Someone was climbing the stairs. Or rather, crawling up them. They were prone on the steps, working their way up by driving something into the steps and pulling themselves along. She could not make out much else from the refraction the ice caused, but she could clearly make out the hair. It was definitely not Anna. Not with that radiant orange like a flame. Or in pants. Or that much profanity.

Or a sword.

'_Who is this?_' she wondered, both curious and a bit fearful. She set off towards the lowest floor, hoping to reach the entrance before her guest did, not seeing the traces of frost her footsteps left on the floor.

* * *

**A/N: So what do you think? Trying to keep with the sort of humor the movie uses, although I can't promise it will keep the PG rating.**

**Your comments/thoughts/constructive criticism is appreciated and welcome. Bashing will only be ignored.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Little Mermaid, Frozen, or any of Disney's characters. Everything else, however (namely the OCs), is mine =) (and if I left something out that does belong to Disney, I don't own those either).**


	3. Chapter 1: The Darkness

Chapter 1: The Darkness

Ursula was afraid.

No, fear was too soft a word for the emotion that gripped her. She was _terrified_.

The sea witch knelt in the remains of the Atlantican palace's throne room. The domed roof had been ripped away and most of the columns were shattered or in various states of crumbling into rubble. Many areas appeared to have been cut by impossibly sharp blades, leaving mirror smooth surfaces as scars of the destruction that had taken place. The standard of Maelstrom now hung behind the throne, the red cloth emblazoned with a black skull inside a whirlpool. Around the room were the ruins of the regal palace, and beyond that the remains of the once proud city. The silence was broken by the occasional scream of pain or despair and the crack of whips as captives were beaten back to work. Overhead the hulls of the iron warships cast narrow shadows on the sea floor, their anchor chains rising and falling in the water.

Atlantica was not the only thing that had seen better days. Ursula was in rough shape as well. The witch had slimmed considerably after her revival, a benefit of being resurrected to an age when her powers were at their prime. Regardless of her figure, however, she was still a sorry sight. Bandages covered her body and her left arm hung in a sling. Two of her six tentacles were halfway through regenerating, although it would only take a fortnight at most for them to be fully restored. A large pale scar ran horizontally across her eyes, a souvenir of her last encounter with Lara. Another pair of scars, one on her abdomen and one in the small of her back, were remnants of the impalement she suffered at Eric's hands. She kept her eyes on the floor as she trembled, fearful of the monstrous company she found herself in.

Surrounding the desecrated throne room were thirty clockmen, or clock-mermen to be precise. The skeletal black metal elites of Maelstrom's army stood perfectly still, their glowing green eyes unblinking and phantasmal as they kept guard. Their tails were like fish skeletons, the ribs clinking menacingly against each other as they moved to produce a sound like rain on sheet metal. Their forged bodies hid an array of weapons ranging from spear guns to swords to clawed hands that could tear through a ship's hull like an eagle's claws through skin. A magical core glowed green in their chests, the light pulsing in mockery of their nonexistent hearts. They were the perfect soldiers for such an insidious organization – obedient and without hesitation, conscience or mercy.

Behind Ursula were the second and third in command of Maelstrom. One was a "human" woman dressed in a dark blue flowing robe with sinister tribal patterns embroidered in gold thread around the hems. Her golden blonde hair fell across her shoulder and down to her feet in a long braid. Three quarters of her face was hidden behind a gold mask with a crescent smile for a mouth and a black circular eyehole. Her left eye was visible, the upper left quarter of her mask having been ripped off. It was such a pale shade of blue that it appeared silver.

This was Remora, Maelstrom's second in command. The witch who conquered Sharkania single handedly and led the conquest of Seahaven. Her power was matched only by her psychotic thirst for bloodshed and torture. The corner of her visible eye crinkled as she smirked under her mask, enjoying Ursula's fear like a fine wine. She shifted slightly, a clinking of metal issuing from beneath her robe.

Behind Remora and looping around the entire throne room was the largest sea serpent ever to terrorize the seven seas. The creature's thousand-foot body was blue-gray with black triangular marks running along it. A bright orange fin marked with sparse electric blue dots ran along its back and the underside of its tail like the fin of a moray eel. A massive spiny ray extended from atop its head, each spine as long as a ship's mast. A long curved antenna extended from the front of the ray above two massive gleaming yellow slit eyes like the lure of an anglerfish. A white orb large enough to hold a horse dangled at the end of the antennae. Its long eel-like head bore jaws filled with needle teeth twice as long as a man was tall.

Riptide was the leviathan's name, and he held the rank of third strongest in Maelstrom. His size was matched only by his hunger. To him there were no allies or enemies. Everyone was just a meal waiting to happen. Right then he was eying Ursula with predatory interest, a low hiss escaping his throat. A malicious smile played at the corners of his mouth, exposing more of his teeth.

Yet despite the awesome and terrible power these two possessed, it was not their presence that had Ursula quivering in fear. It was the individual sitting on the Atlantican throne who took credit for that. He was clad in a dark shredded cloak of blacks, dark purples and darker blues that spilled all the way down to the floor. Black sharkskin gloves concealed his hands. A hood was pulled over his head. His face was hidden in such pitch darkness that it seemed the shadows were devouring the light that attempted to penetrate them. The only indication that a face existed underneath the hood was a pair of gleaming blue pinpricks of light from his eyes.

This was the leader of Maelstrom, more dangerous than Remora, Riptide, and Ursula combined. This was the mastermind behind the destruction of Atlantica and the annihilation of Seahaven and its allies. The one who resurrected Ursula and Morgana from the grave. The one who turned Remora into the butcher she was and commanded Riptide's fearsome strength. The one who brought Atlantica to its knees single handedly. The one who cursed Ariel into her teenage years, and who even now sought out the three women for the relics they carried.

This was the one they simply knew as Master.

And he was angry.

"You had a single mission, Ursula. A single, _simple_ mission. Was any part of my orders not clear?" he asked, his voice as malicious and sinister as his presence.

"N-n-no, of course not…sir," she stammered, fighting to keep the tremble out of her voice.

The Master's eyes flicked over to Remora and Riptide. "You two, tell me… do you remember what those orders were?"

Remora nodded. "Perfectly. Take two hundred of your monsters and fifty clockmen."

"Head north by land," added Riptide in a hissing serpentine voice.

The Master rose from his throne and floated towards Ursula. "Continue."

"Pursue Lara, Melody and Ariel until they are found," said Remora, a jab of mockery in her voice directed at Ursula.

Riptide hissed devilishly as he spoke. "Kill them, then take the Oceanstar and the Firebrand…"

"And return with their bodies so they can be used for materials," finished Remora.

The Master drifted to a stop in front of Ursula. She was trembling violently now, her teeth chattering in fear of the Hell she knew was coming.

"But that's not what happened, is it Ursula?" he said, his voice as smooth and lethal as poison.

"N-no, sir," she said. Her heart – or whatever passed for her heart – was beating so fast she thought it would leap out of her chest and swim away. If it were possible to sweat underwater then Ursula would be dripping bullets.

The Master's eyes flashed. A black tendril of shadow shot out of the floor and drove Ursula into one of the columns by the neck. She slammed hard into the stone, crying out as the impact aggravated her wounds. She clutched at her throat as the tendril squeezed down like a vice, lifting her high into the water.

She heard the snap of fingers. The next thing she knew lightning coursed through her body, searing her skin and making her scream in agony. It felt like that day twenty years ago when Eric speared her with that ship, the lightning striking her at the same time. The pain was all encompassing and unrelenting.

Remora grinned under her mask as she listened to the witch's torment. Riptide slipped around to get a better view, his jaw shuddering delightedly as he watched.

"Since you seem unable to talk," said the Master coldly, his voice devoid of any hesitation or reluctance in torturing the witch, "I will tell you what happened… you _failed_. You returned here without their corpses, without the cores, and without so much as a part of one of our soldiers! And you expect me to grant you mercy for your defeat?"

He clapped his hands and the lightning stopped. Lingering threads of electricity still raced across Ursula's body as she hung suspended by the shadowy limb.

"It wasn't… my fault…" gasped Ursula, her mind and body weakened from the electrical torture. "That vampire… Mina…she's helping them…they-!"

The Master snapped his fingers again and the lightning resumed. Ursula shrieked as her world plunged back into agony.

"I don't care if they were allies with Death herself!" snapped the Master angrily, his eyes glowing even brighter now. The faintest traces of a face became visible. "You know the price of failure! Success is met with reward! Incompetency is met with death! That is my law!"

He flicked his hand towards the throne. The tendril hurled Ursula to the floor, smacking her hard against the stone before disintegrating. She lay on the floor whimpering in misery. Riptide watched her the way a cat watches a wounded mouse, waiting for the order to pounce.

The Master floated over to Ursula. He extended his hand towards her and raised it, causing the witch to lift off the floor and hang suspended before him. Black blood trickled out the corner of her mouth and several of her wounds, electricity still racing across her skin in sporadic dwindling bursts.

"The circumstances excuse nothing," said the Master. "You failed not only in your mission, but to even grasp the scale of what your failure means to my plans! Because of you we have lost their trail completely! Our spies have found no trace and because of that accursed sorcerer and mountain beast our spells cannot locate them! I should feed you to Riptide for losing the clockmen alone!"

The colossal sea serpent ran a blue pointed tongue over his teeth, eager for a new meal to add to his strength.

The Master would have liked nothing more than to punish Ursula by his own hand, or at least turn her over to Remora and watch her go to work. The woman had torture down to an art form. Yet the unfortunate truth, at least for him, was that Ursula was central to their operation right now. Morgana was still out of commission, and with Remora and Riptide busy extending their newly created dystopia southward it fell to Ursula to pick up the slack. He needed her to continue their dark research for the next assault. Incompetent as Ursula was in comparison to her superiors she was still a valuable asset.

"However…" He dropped his hand and with it Ursula. "Considering that I still have use for you I will allow you to live… for now." The witch groaned and rolled onto her one good arm, not seeing the disappointed look on Riptide's face.

He leaned over her as she struggled to lift herself up. "Here are orders even you cannot fail at. You will remain in Seahaven indefinitely. You will oversee the roundup of the remaining humans and continue your experiments. I expect results on both ends within five days. If not…" He waved his hand. A cloud of shadow appeared in front of Ursula's face. "You will join your sister."

The cloud formed into a pane of darkness. The black surface rippled like water as an image appeared.

Ursula swallowed hard. She had witnessed this scene in person many times before. After all, she was the one in charge of seeing that it progressed smoothly. But it was still enough to shock someone as evil as her every time she saw it.

Morgana floated in a tube of glowing blue water, the light rising and falling in a slow pulse. She slept soundly, her chest rising and falling with slow shallow breaths. Yet it would take anyone who knew Morgana from before the fall of the seawall a moment to recognize her for two reasons.

The first was that she had physically changed. Her skin was white as snow. Underneath her closed lids you would find eyes with an icy blue tint to them, as cold and deadly as she was. The blemishes to her skin were gone. The liver spot on her face was now little more than a beauty mark. Her features had become smoother and more graceful. Ice crystals clung to parts of her skin and hair. She bore little resemblance to the cilophyte that had terrified Ariel and Eric into hiding behind the seawall for twelve years.

The second reason she was not immediately recognizable was because of the horrific wounds she bore. Six of her eight tentacles were missing, as was her right arm and ear. The remaining two limbs looked as though a shark had chewed on them. Large portions of her pale skin were charred and blistered. What little of her hair had survived clung to her scalp in discordant wispy patches. Four large parallel lacerations ran across her chest and stomach as though a giant claw had ripped into her. Smaller gashes marked her face and remaining arm. How she was still alive after suffering such trauma was anyone's guess, although her desire for revenge on Melody and Triton was a start.

Ursula gulped fearfully. It was not the Master, Remora, or even Riptide who had done that to Morgana, although all were certainly capable of doing so. The one responsible for her sister's second brush with death was Lara. The power that girl kept secret had been more than a match for Morgana. Angering Lara had been one of the worst mistakes she ever made. She proved that when Lara mutilated her to within an inch of death. Even after two months Morgana had yet to wake up, and her wounds were healing much slower than expected.

The Master walked past Ursula to the throne. "Remora, escort this dogfish back to Seahaven. Make sure she stays there. The rest of you are dismissed."

Remora bowed obediently. "Of course, sir." She gestured to two clockmen. The constructs immediately swam over and roughly hauled Ursula upright before swimming out of the throne room with her, ignoring the witch's squirming to escape their crushing iron grip. Riptide gave a short nod and unwrapped himself from around the room, swimming off in search of his next meal. The remaining clockmen left as well, the metallic rattling of their tail strokes fading away in a haunting chatter.

Remora turned to follow the clockmen but stopped. "What should I do with Ursula if she fails again?"

The Master waved dismissively at her. "I trust you to take care of it as you see fit."

Remora smiled demonically under her mask. Taking care of things her way involved no shortage of pain and violence towards her victims. "With pleasure. And what of the vampire? Should I go _persuade_ her to put us on their trail?"

The Master understood her eagerness to go after Ariel, Melody and Lara. She had a history with Lara going back more than half a century. She had come close to getting her revenge during the assault, but he had unknowingly called her off before she could deliver the killing blow. Remora had been itching for another shot ever since. Only her absolute loyalty to him kept her from going after them alone.

"No," said the Master as he settled into his new throne. "Those three would know better than to tell anyone where they're going. They will not have told the vampire anything that could allow us to hunt them. Right now we must avoid instigating a fight with a creature of her caliber, at least until our foothold here is properly secured."

Remora folded her arms, unhappy at being deprived of another hunt but unwilling to refute her commander's wishes. "So what's our next move?"

"Just watch Ursula and keep the factory running. With all the new materials and slaves you'll have no trouble making more recruits for our army. In the meantime I'll have our spies listen for any information about those brats. They cannot hide forever. Sooner or later they will turn up, and when they do we will be ready."

Remora gave a low bow, her single silver eye never leaving him. "As you wish, Master." With that she turned and walked out, moving through the water as though it were air.

The Master waited until Remora was gone before he let out an angry growl. Suddenly his eyes flared. He angrily swept his arm towards one of the ruined columns. The image of Morgana turned into a black sickle of shadow that sliced clean through the stone. The top half of the column slid off with barely a whisper, leaving behind another mirror smooth surface. The Master swung his arm again. The shadow now wrapped around the falling stone and hurled it across the room where it struck another column, sending both crumbling into rubble.

He was not sure which angered him more – that Ursula had lost the girls or that he could not lay absolute blame on her given the circumstances under which she lost them. If her account was to be believed then this Countess Mina Tepesch was not just another vampire. She was a nosferatu, a veritable demigod among her kind. He could deal with her easily enough on his own, but she was not an enemy Ursula could have beaten. Nor was she someone they could waste their efforts against. If he simply threw soldiers at her she would add them to her undead legions, and the last thing he wanted was to have one of his commanders join her ranks.

The Master clenched his fist in anger. Damn those girls. Damn them and every soul that had dared to aid in their escape. Just when victory was assured and Seahaven was his, those three had still found a way to hinder his plans. They destroyed the trident and took the Oceanstar, the ancient relic that gave the once unrivaled weapon its command over the ocean. Then imagine his surprise to discover that Lara possessed the legendary Claymore, a weapon whose Firebrand core was powerful enough to rival even the trident. In that one moment he let arrogance get the better of him, the girl had destroyed trident and claymore at once and fled with Ariel and Melody. The Master still possessed the Thunderbolt and the Winterheart cores, the other parts of the trident's power, but without the Oceanheart or at least the Firebrand in his possession his dark plans were on hold.

He waved his hand at the shadow sickle. It split into dozens of black lines that slithered across the floor. The lines moved with purpose, contorting and twisting until the unmistakable form of a map appeared in the stone, the western kingdoms and surrounding lands laid out in clear vivid detail. A red stain appeared on it, indicating the territory currently under Maelstrom's control. Seahaven and its closest allies were stained crimson, as though the stone was soaked in the blood of those who had perished in the attack.

He scowled under his hood. The map did little to assuage his anger. If anything it only served to put the magnitude of the task he now faced into perspective. Sängril sat to the northeast along the White Iron Mountains, just outside their sphere of influence. At a nonstop march the town was three weeks away from Seahaven. Even using the new airships to cut their northbound travel in half it would take twelve days minimum to get there, and the craft were still too flimsy for his liking. If he sent Riptide and Remora alone they could make it in eight days over land. The two on their own would likely be more than enough to handle the countess. But even if they got Mina to talk there was no telling how far their prey would run in the time it would take to get there.

The Master set his mind to work, for it was just as sharp and powerful as his magic. It was clear they would not dare return to Seahaven. Lara would bind Ariel and Melody in ropes and drag them along before she allowed them to risk a return. Besides, as long as he had the mermaid's family captive it was assured they would return. To the west lay the ocean, nothing but a vast open emptiness that stretched farther than any ship could sail. They would have to be truly desperate to risk the ocean. To the east were the White Iron Mountains, a jagged range of snow capped peaks and ice. The Guardian of the Forest would allow them safe passage through, but beyond that lay the sun scorched sands of the Devil's Steppe, and beyond that still was the Dragon's Teeth and the eastern kingdoms, Lara's former hunting grounds. She would hand herself over to the Master in person before taking Melody and Ariel across the desert to that Hell on earth.

That left one direction for them to run.

North.

But finding them again was still a daunting problem even with their choice of escape routes limited to one point on the compass. To the north was the Serus Wilds, a vast wilderness encompassing the northern part of the continent. It was largely unexplored pine forests and mountains for thousands of miles. A small spattering of towns along its southern border and to the west were its only human settlements. There were things as old as the land itself that haunted those woods. Without the aid of magic in locating them it could take years just to find their trail. Maelstrom's dominance in the west was assured, but even they lacked the manpower at present to make a search of the north practical.

The Master's eyes fell on a small inlet far to the north of Seahaven, just at the western border of the Serus Wilds. A name over the inlet marked the land as belonging to a certain kingdom.

Arendelle.

He knew this kingdom. At one point he had considered overtaking it and turning it into the headquarters for his organization of malignance. The palace sat snugly in a fjord surrounded by steep cliff faces and tall mountains, the geography lending it natural protection from invasions. Aside from that it was not a particularly important or valuable place. It consisted of little more than a single town where its leadership was centered and several smaller hamlets in the surrounding mountains. Its only significant resources were timber and ice from the mountains. Even its military was little more than a well-organized militia. Trade was the lifeblood of the kingdom. It was hardly a place worthy of the Master's interest at present.

He pressed his fingertips together, scrutinizing the map and his mind for any clue that would point them in the right direction. All they needed was one clue, one footprint, or one scent and they would have their trail once more. Once he had that, the full wrath of Maelstrom would be sent after them.

Yet one question still remained unanswered. And it was one that puzzled him to no end. This path Lara was leading them on... it was too deliberate, too focused to be a panicked retreat. It was more like they were _heading_ north instead of simply running in that direction.

"Where are you going?" he wondered out loud. "Your land is mine. Your people are mine. Even your enemies are mine to command."

He reached inside the sleeve of his robe. When he extracted his hand again a pair of glass spheres no larger than a grape lay in his palm. One appeared to be made of white glass, but on closer inspection the white was revealed to be an endlessly shifting fractal of ice. The other held golden threads of lightning inside it, buzzing faintly as the electricity danced within the glass. He could feel the awesome power contained in them, the wrath of lightning and winter distilled down to the pure essence that was the Winterheart and Thunderbolt. With these in his grasp his rule was absolute. None could stand against him.

"What hope could you possibly find in that wilderness?"

* * *

**A/N: The story is still on! I ran into a bit of writer's block trying to get this story off the ground without giving away too many plot details on my other one, but I finally got the plot figured out after seeing Frozen for a **_**fourth **_**time! Can't get enough of that movie!**

**To clarify, this story will take place during the events of Frozen and after TLM2. I said it before but I'll keep this story going until it reaches its conclusion, regardless of how long it takes. I wish I could just devote my time to writing this, but sadly life has a habit of getting in the way.**

**If you like the story so far then by all means please favorite it! If you have any thoughts or constructive criticism then **_**please**_** review or PM me! I welcome it! Hearing your thoughts and suggestions helps me to be a better writer!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Little Mermaid, Frozen, or any of Disney's characters. Everything else, however, is mine =)**


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